Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust
by Jon Repesh
Summary: In this Redemption sequel, Commander Shepard and Liara T'Soni uncover what really happened to the Shadow Broker.


An individual's impact in life can be historic. Lengthy wars and sovereign shifts have been wrought by their audacious acts. While violence is their likely means, other tactics are duly employed. Information is critical even during peaceful times, with one party making the commerce in it his stock in trade. His bearing on government is considerable. He has empowered the few and diminished the many. He's neither left nor right, pro nor con. No qualms or views deter any venture. His motives are many and privy solely to himself. He's both feared and respected. His very presence affects results, though he prefers anonymity. The Citadel stirs with mere mention of his name. He is the Shadow Broker.

Rumors abound of arcane activity. Deals are bartered, allies aligned. Some sinister scheme is afoot, with the Broker's name blaring ominously at the forefront. At times like this vigilance is paramount, bringing together two close friends.

"**Long time, Liara."**

"Too long. I heard about the geth incident, thought about you."

"**Unfortunately that's still a concern, along with a few other things. How's everything on Omega?"**

"The same. Smuggling's worse than ever, but you already know that."

"**It's the reason I called, though I wish it were personal."**

"So the Citadel's worried about the Broker again. Last I heard he was thinking retirement. Apparently something changed."

"**We were hoping you'd know. You've had the most contact with him. There's talk that has my people worried."**

"Can you be more specific?"

"**Weapons."**

"Weapons?! That's not his style. He leaves bloodshed to others."

"**That's the word, and we don't believe it's just business. Whatever's going down, it's deeper."**

"You don't think he's involved in the batarian dispute?"

"**No. He couldn't care less about some damn civil war that means little to anyone. It's been suggested it's personal...forgoing the shadows, favoring the light…."**

"Unlikely. He's different, completely void of ego. He prefers the sidelines. He'd have to change his name for heaven sake."

"**We think this tie into your problems on Omega."**

"Last thing we need, though it could provide leverage. There's an arms dealer up to his neck in smuggling who may prove helpful if he hears there's a new player out to eliminate the competition….permanently. Self preservation is a great motivator."

"**Indeed, but don't bring up names. If he's clueless, it could trigger alarms. Discretion is key."**

"How'd you hear about this?"

"**Someone inside, someone deep inside."**

"Is this one of his people…..or yours?"

"**Ours. Naturally the fewer that know the better….for everyone's sake. We're very conscious of reprisal. Anytime an inner circle is compromised….In this case that would be…painful."**

"Do I sense a personal connection?"

"**We all understand the need for detachment, but at times….."**

"I'm not trying to pry. I just care."

"**I know."**

"I could go straight to the horse's mouth, unofficial. It wouldn't be unusual."

"**Not yet. We're already working on her exit. Once she's off, you're on."**

"Good enough. Then let me get started. I should have something within a few hours. How can I contact you?"

"**Through the extranet. Keep it simple. I'll read between the lines."**

"Do you have a plan?"

"**Vaguely, though I'll need your report beforehand. Time is of the essence Liara, but be careful."**

"I always am, Commander."

Liara's trip to Omega is brief. Upon arrival, she reflects back on her conversation with her dear friend, pondering the personal import. He wasn't his usual stoic self, actually displaying rare chinks in his emotional armor. Of course it would take a friend to grasp the nuance. The person inside the Broker's sanctum must be someone close to affect his demeanor so clearly. They both understand the sacrifices made in their calling and challenges posed whenever venturing any relationship. The danger factor alone precludes even the thought. Their lives are too busy and time too precious, with loved ones forsaken endlessly. Spouses want their partner, offspring their parent, with neither tolerant of absence. Even casual affairs try the most selfless of beings. Maintaining order time and again is a thankless task disdained by others but embraced heartily by these devoted colleagues. Still people connect, lovers fashioned, with the requisite heartache to follow. Alas death may ensue as well.

The search for the dealer shouldn't present a problem. He haunts the same area routinely, with little camouflage deployed. Crime is so endemic on Omega wrongdoers hardly fear the law, openly trafficking their wares with a laissez-faire arrogance. Of course whenever money's to be made, no deterrent serves. Fortunately for Liara this conceit works in her favor for just then she spots her prey, a quarian renowned for his thunderous arsenal.

"**You're certainly predictable, good for me. We need to talk."**

"What do you want asari?"

"**Your sorry ass in jail."**

"On whose authority? You have no jurisdiction here."

"**So how's business. I'm sure the batarians are steady clients. Of course you're neutral and sell to both sides."**

"You don't know what you're talking about. Why should I talk to you anyways?"

"**You could be dealing with far worse characters than me. What if I were to tell the turians who's been stealing their shipments, selling it to their enemies, and at a profit no less."**

"How do you know this? If that damn drell talked I'll cut off his….You're bluffing."

"**Am I? I'll tell you what. What say I settle for a little info and forget about the turians."**

"Ok. Fine. Sure, the batarians are customers. So I help out a few freedom fighters. I'm nonpartisan. They buy everything they can get their hands on, though their funds are limited. Besides they lack imagination. All they want is smart bombs and think tanks. So passé."

"**What's cutting edge these days?"**

"Fission fire. The power of a nuclear reactor right at your fingertips, all contained in the casing of a common pen. It's cutting edge all right. It'll cut your eye out at five klicks."

"**Naturally the profit margin's higher."**

"Naturally."

"**Any new players around?"**

"In this business, always. They come and they go. I'd need a scorecard to keep track. If I was concerned everytime someone new hit the scene, I'd have been out of this racket years ago."

"**Depends on the player."**

"I've seen 'em all, tough guys trying to make a mark. After a while, they're just a bunch of nameless losers."

"**Oh, the person I'm thinking of is hardly nameless, and certainly no loser. Faceless perhaps. He's probably using intermediates, preferring the indirect approach. Anyone buying large quantities?"**

"No, more likely exotic items, one of a kind."

"**What do you make of that? A collector, sportsman hunting rare prey?"**

"In my line of work, the only question asked is the color of your money."

"**You must have an opinion. Come on, just between friends."**

"Not all weapons are bought for battle. Some have other applications."

"**Go on."**

"Some are purchased to be used precisely one time, and depending on the species involved a very special weapon is required."

"**This goes back to what I said earlier, someone hunting a particular prey."**

"Think outside the box. You're still seeing everything as conflict, one against one. Tell me, what's the flip side of murder?"

"…**.flip side of murder?**

"….or better yet, self inflicted murder."

"…**..Suicide!"**

Liara ponders the shocking topic broached by the quarian. He suggested a specific weapon was being sought for the purpose of suicide, leading to the first question. Whose suicide, the Shadow Broker's, or someone else. The Broker's body is not immune to harm. While physically daunting, he can be killed in any number of ways via a plethora of weapons, and she knows of no other race with their own peculiar kryptonite weakness or Achilles Heel. Those are Earth fables, not real life as she knows it. The dealer appeared unaware of any name behind the search, so the possibility exists someone else is involved. Regardless of the culprit's identity, the next question is what situation requires a particular weapon when others would suffice. Quite cryptic, though she recalls hearing of a religious significance applied to a gun, but forgets specifics. Alas the subject matter is beyond her expertise, thus demanding learned counsel. Possibly a cleric could shed some light, but first it's time to dispatch these revelations to her comrade.

Commander Shepard is not known for patience. As a man of action he detests inaction, with the wait for Liara's report proving interminable, though it paid off handsomely. Interesting bit of info too. An exact weapon is the prize, the whys and wherefores adding further intrigue while having peripheral relevance to his plan, a plan of entrapment. If you cannot find an adversary, especially one cloaked in shadows, make the adversary come to

you. So if someone wants a rarity, then that they shall have, and he knows just the artisan to provide it.

"**Hello. Are you Q'wan Toh?"**

"You have me at a disadvantage sir. To whom am I speaking?"

"**While your name is reputable and deservedly so, mine is not and thus unimportant. What is important is my purpose."**

"I see. Anonymity is customary in my business naturally, but I still like to maintain pleasantries."

"**And fully appreciated. Regardless of circumstances, decorum is admirable. However I've travelled far, time is short, and I have a request of you."**

"You do have references."

"**Indeed. None other than the Illusive Man. He sends his regards."**

"How do you know him?"

"**Actually he's more an occupational irritant than a friend, though I know him well enough to have witnessed your handiwork personally. That Baretta was inspired. Such style and detail. You're looking at an earthman with the utmost respect for fine craftsmanship and old world virtues."**

"Then we are kindred spirits. Few would know of that request. It had personal significance behind it."

"**Strange for a man not known for sentiment, don't you agree?"**

"I wouldn't know about that. I prefer to maintain distance in my dealings. I'm sure you understand."

"**More than you know. Speaking of dealings, let's get on with one. I have a request for you, a very special request. A request for a particular weapon, one of a kind. So rare in fact it's yet to exist."**

"You want me to create an exclusive weapon for you."

"**Yes, though I'm hardly the man with the golden gun, pardon the Earth movie reference. This weapon's most important characteristic will be its uniqueness. Functionality is still required of course."**

"Of course. May I ask the purpose of this weapon?"

"**To attract the interest of a certain person. You see, I am a hunter and will use the weapon in my quest, but not in the usual manner one expects. It will be used more as bait than a deathblow."**

"Interesting. A unique weapon for a unique purpose. What's the caliber and alloy required?"

"**That's being determined as we speak. For now I wanted to touch bases and get things rolling. Can you help me?'**

"Yes."

"**What timeframe are we looking at?"**

"Contact me in one solar cycle. You'll have your bait."

"**Then we're on. I anxiously await your creation."**

Liara's confab with the quarian raised as many questions as answers provided, questions not easily explained. Of course the subject is millennia old and exceedingly dense, comprising cultures throughout the universe. She wades through her memory banks and recalls a woman quite versed in the myriad religions of space. Her province is instilling the youth and still engaged at a nearby retreat.

"**Excuse me. I don't know if you remember me, but I'm a former student of yours."**

"The face is familiar, though the name is not. Too many to remember I'm afraid."

"**I understand. I'm not good with names myself. Liara T'Soni. It's been a while."**

"I do remember you, quite rambunctious, especially with those powers of yours. You scared the bejeesus out of me more than once."

"**I'm sorry. I still have trouble controlling them at times. As for my gumption…..."**

"Look at you, all grown up. How's life treating you? Are you happy?"

"**Generally, yes. Right now….."**

"I take it this isn't a personal visit. I get so few of those. What's troubling you?"

"**Well, I do need advice, but not for me. I'm here regarding someone else."**

"Liara, there's no need for modesty. I've heard it all. There's nothing you can say that will shock me. Neither will I show any judgment toward you."

"**No I'm serious. Oh, let me start over. Someone I know may be contemplating suicide and there could be a religious connection. I need some expertise on the subject and you were the first person I thought of."**

"I apologize for the misunderstanding. Please, sit down."

"**The individual is quite prominent. He's searching for a particular weapon, a unique weapon. When I first heard this, I considered a religious meaning. Nothing else came to mind or made sense. Am I making sense?"**

"There is a tenet named arcana. It's heavy on symbolism and rituals, especially concerning the afterlife, which appears to be at the heart of the matter. The use of a specific weapon could be interpreted as a means of getting into the desired transcendental state, heaven shall we say. This weapon could provide a cathartic release, an atonement for bad karma accrued through evil deeds. Has this person committed evil deeds?"

"**More than his share, I'm afraid. But many religions consider suicide a mortal sin. That would undermine his intent."**

"Yes, but many don't. It is estimated there are over five thousand established religions just in our quadrant. Their beliefs are extremely varied and usually contradict or undermine other doctrines."

"**With so much difference of opinion, how can anyone trust what they believe?"**

"Faith. That's ultimately what it comes down to. Of course there's the skeptics, people of science, who will tell you all consciousness ends when the brain dies. In other words, there is no afterlife."

"**And the weapon's only significance is what the user gives it."**

"It has no physical significance beyond being a tool. It's symbolic, a sort of talisman. Its main purpose is to cleanse the soul. The killing of the body is merely the means to that end. What can you tell me about this person?"

"**Concerning his beliefs, not much. I do know as a youth he had a spiritual adviser, a master so to speak. He was one of many disciples."**

"That fits. Arcana is quite metaphysical, deep rooted in alchemy, even to the point of bestowing meaning to the metal contained in the weapon. Is this person experiencing depression or bad health?"

"**Last I saw he was a striking example of good health, physical and mental, so why he's contemplating this now is a mystery."**

"Some believe history is governed by cycles. Perhaps we're coming to the end or beginning of one now, which may leave you little time. You need to uncover more details about him, hopefully from someone close."

"**That's how I heard about this in the first place, indirectly. I'm not sure that person can provide anything further. It's a long story."**

"Is this someone close to you?"

"**No. It's more professional than personal, though I do have feelings."**

"Then go with your feelings Liara T'Soni, and Godspeed."

"**Thank you."**

While Commander Shepard awaits his request, diligence demands another task. Further corroboration of this entire affair is needed, and what better source than a confederate of the Broker. A network as vast as his requires numerous people to implement. Shepard has encountered many in his travels, though most aren't worth consideration. However a few could prove helpful, one particular krogan especially, and he knows just where to find him.

"**What's up Ragor?"**

"Shepard, what the hell you want? I'm clean."

"**That remains to be seen. You staying out of trouble?"**

"Why you bothering me. I'm small time. Don't you have bigger fish to fry?"

"**Who you working for these days?"**

"I'm freelance, you know that. In my vocation you never know where your next paycheck is coming from. Just keep your eyes and ears open."

"**Last I heard, you were working for the Broker."**

"Everyone works for the Broker at one time or another. He values initiative and rewards it well."

"**Sounds like the ideal boss."**

"Yeah right. Just don't get on his bad side."

"**Tasmanian devil time."**

"You see that Tazzik. He's a beast. Mean son of a bitch, though he actually has a code of honor. Go figure."

"**When was the last time you saw him?"**

"A few days ago."

"**With the Broker?"**

"Yes."

"**Which means his services are required."**

"Imminently. I pity his next victim, whoever that might be."

"**No clue?"**

"Hell no. I also know when to keep my eyes and ears closed."

"**Tazzik may know the Broker's affairs more than anyone."**

"Could be. Why the sudden interest, or is this routine?"

"**Hardly routine. How'd he appear the last time you spoke?"**

"To the point. He's not one for chit chat. He seemed a bit preoccupied, but that could be a lot of things."

"**Like what?"**

"I got the impression something big was going down, some major decision was made."

"**What kind of decision?"**

"You know, life or death."

Shepard dissects his conversation with the krogan. While most of his remarks conveyed little, a few rang eerily prophetic. What word did he use, imminently, a word denoting dwindling time, with the big picture still unclear. More clarification is needed, so who better to confer than the man discussed, the Broker's own terminator, none other than Tazzik. A quick vid-call discerns his whereabouts. No trying feat, since he savors the night life and its wanton excess. The two met once before under adverse conditions, though a tenuous rapport was established. Tazzik is such a haughty individual he has few qualms about disclosing his affairs, deeming himself impervious to defeat. A tall cool one would refresh as well as two esteemed warriors trade insights.

"**I wasn't sure you'd show."**

"Make no mistake, I don't like agents of the Citadel. You're so….human. But I'm curious, and dialogue can be useful."

"**You are one big son of a gun. Can't hurt the intimidation factor….."**

"Looks great on the business card, though in the actual performing of it perhaps not. My work is best accomplished with my prey never laying eyes, and especially hands, on me."

"**Work from afar. Leave the close quarters combat to those unprepared."**

"I fear no one in battle, though if you want to last in this profession…..discretion and all that."

"**A touch of humility. How refreshing."**

"I'm more than just a pretty face. Victory is accomplished more often by brains than by brawn. Leave the hubris to your opponent. It'll be their downfall."

"**Keeping busy?"**

"One particular employer keeps me active."

"**The Shadow Broker."**

"That's no secret. He's formidable in his own right, but without me….."

"**He has many people concerned right now, and not in the normal sense. This is different, personal. And guess whose name also came up?"**

"Mine. We knew there was a leak….which needs to be plugged of course, permanently."

"**Confirm a few things and I'll take care of the leak for you, in a less bloody manner naturally."**

"One of your people I see. No surprise. I figured it was either you or the Collectors. I'd prefer it be them. I hate those bastards."

"**There not exactly on my hit parade. I haven't forgotten their interest in my dead body. Everyone was surprised the Broker even dealt with them. They can't be trusted."  
**"Some say the same about the Citadel."

"**Whatever, but let's leave that debate for another time and get to the point. Why's the Broker have a death wish?"**

"So that's what you heard. Your intel is spotty. You're missing a few pieces."

"**Fill me in. Is he looking for a weapon to kill himself?"**

"Yes, and no."

"**Go on."**

"A weapon is being sought, but not for suicide. It will have another purpose."

"**Which is….?"**

"Murder."

"**Murder!"**

"By me."

"**I see. And who is the intended victim?"**

"That's where it gets complicated. The Broker is my main patron and now is no exception, however the victim is an entirely different matter. In fact this will be the most extraordinary assignment of my career. The victim…..is him. You see, he's dying."

Liara's been apprised that Shepard's confidante is safe. She's now free to contact the Broker first hand and confront him about the reports. Their uneasy relationship has many facets, but foremost there's candor. He's innately direct and disdains deceit, plus they share a peculiar regard for the other. No surprise that once she called he held no reluctance about a meet. Still the trek to Alingon is taxing. Besides the reeling relay jaunt, its terrain is furthermore grueling, with byzantine pathways and opaque illumination that deter the hardiest, a critical reason the planet was selected for his base. His security is likewise formidable. He brooks no trespassers without advance reservations, a detail fortunately superfluous to Liara. What is pertinent is passage, and after negotiating one last chasm, she's within visual range of his compound. It's finally time for answers.

"**I'm pleased you consented to see me."**

"This is beneficial for me as well. You guys have been asking too many questions. It's time to clear the air."

"**That would be helpful, and yes, we have been asking questions. We've heard rumors, rumors that have us concerned. But first let me show some concern by asking a simple question. How are you?"**

"A simple question indeed couched in common amenities, yet one not simple to answer."

"**I thought as much. It's my sole reason for being here."**

"Thus illustrating how little privacy any of us have anymore. Even me. Do you know what's interesting about information? How easy it is to obtain. My enterprise is proof of that. Everybody loves to talk. No one can keep a secret. Incentives like money and favors merely grease the machine, keep the operatives driven. Of course the opposite is also true. Keeping a secret is just as difficult."

"**I know you're trying to keep one, which involves you personally, and what I've heard is shocking."**

"Nothing shocks me anymore. I've seen it all. When one event happens, others follow suit. Everything is a domino effect. Dominos, a humble children's game, yet also a profound metaphor for life. Do you ever ponder destiny?"

"**Yes."**

"Free will vs. determinism?"

"**I studied it in school."**

"Which camp are you in?"

"**Free will. Life is a series of choices and decisions. Left, right, up, down. Yes some things are out of our control, but our futures are not preordained."**

"You sound so sure, so willful. I was like that. However at certain points in your life, crossroads, beliefs become blurred."

"**There are no guarantees. It's the vagaries that make life interesting. Without the lows, the highs have no meaning. It's all perspective. We need emotional balance."**

"You mentioned things being out of our control, but I'm a being of control. I have been my entire adult life. Without it there is chaos, anarchy….."

"**Strange comment coming from you, considering you've created your share of chaos. And others had to deal with it! Yet another example of something out of **

**someone's control. But they didn't give up. They survived….which was their choice."  
**"You're a survivor Liara, inspirational, but in the end when our bodies turn to dust, does it matter?"

"**You surprise me. I know you to be a spiritual being, which entails many things, but fundamentally there's hope. Yet here you stand, shaken, completely devoid of it. What the hell happened?"**

"This physical shell that contains the spirit will soon be no more. I'm dying…..which prompts many thoughts. What comes next? Does anything come next? And what legacy will I bequeath."

"**I can't answer what comes next. No one can. As for your legacy, you made your bed buster, so live with it. All this should have been considered long ago as you comported yourself since youth."**

"Hindsight means little when the reaper comes calling."

"**You've made rational choices and this is the consequence. Regrets are painful, I understand, but save your sympathy for your victims."**

"You're right. The past can't be changed, but I can still atone for it and prepare for my ethereal future."

"**How do you plan to atone, by killing yourself? That is what you're planning, isn't it?"**

"With the aid of an associate…yes."

"**Do you really believe that will accomplish anything?"**

"I have to. It's the last thing I do believe."

At that moment a raucous shot rings out, and the Shadow Broker slumps to Liara's feet. She swiftly turns to see Tazzik, the Broker's personal assassin, standing mere feet away, brandishing the proverbial smoking gun. He utters a few words before leaving.

"**It's better this way." **

Liara reflects back on the last few moments. Naturally death has that effect, along with interjecting abject mortality itself. Existential musings are inescapable. Life is indeed short, with no assurances whatsoever. There's no road map or moral compass. Just live a righteous life and proceed forthright. Yet she's been raised to persevere, turn loss into gain, all while servicing her world anyway she can. The circumstances are right to rise anew, and what better way than becoming the new Shadow Broker.


End file.
